


Tasting Wisdom

by Lorry (Rainee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainee/pseuds/Lorry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Albus Dumbledore gets a lesson in transfiguration</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tasting Wisdom

Title: "Tasting Wisdom"

Author: Lorry  
Timeline: Dumbledore's first year  
Disclaimer: The realm of Harry Potter is not mine. (Big surprise there) It belongs to Warner Bros., JK Rowling, et al. I am only entertaining here. No profit will be made from this writing exercise.  
EX. # 18, btw: an exercise in transformation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tasting Wisdom  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mindful, Albus."

A young, smooth-faced boy looked up at his instructor through half-moon spectacles.

"Watch where you're pointing that wand, or you'll end up transforming young Angus."

Albus Dumbledore looked over at his partner, who shrugged as Professor Fezziwink strode away, stopping to comment randomly to other students as she went. This was the young wizard's first year at Hogwarts, and Albus was still getting used to transformation-on-demand. He'd been well able to transform most anything prior to his formal schooling, but having a professor gazing over his shoulder at every move he made had contributed to more than a few mishaps since the beginning of the term. To calm his nerves, the young first-year looked down at a blue lizard that sat in a crate on his desk. The lizard returned his gaze in a bored sort of way, and Albus looked back toward his friend Angus.

"Do you like licorice?" he asked, smiling innocently. Without awaiting a reply, he flicked his wand toward to lizard. It turned at once into a thick rope of black licorice candy. Angus' brown eyes widened. He reached toward the candy, but not before it was whisked from his grasp and sent spinning into mid-air a foot above the desktop.

"Do you think it wise to ingest such things, Angus Abbingdon?" Professor Fezziwink asked, her usually thin lips pressed even thinner by a disapproving gaze.

"I... I reckon not, Professor," Angus stammered. He slid his chair a few inches away from Albus, face reddening.

"Go on," the wrinkled old professor prodded Albus. "You seem to want to impress us all with your abilities. We already know that you've spent all your summers under the tutelage of that... that... renegade wizard. Then show us, won't you? What else can you do?"

Albus looked up at his teacher once again. He hadn't meant to incur her wrath. Hadn't even meant to draw himself unnecessary attention. But now that he had no choice, he stood to his feet. Pointing his wand at a snake asleep in a crate on the next table, he concentrated, turning it promptly into a sugar quill. Next he aimed at another box on another desk, this time changing a handful of dung beetles into gumdrops. In a matter of moments he had transformed each student's specimen into something deliciously tempting. A frog turned into solid chocolate. (Though Albus apologized that his came without a collector card.) A spider changed into a mass of cotton candy. Three newts were transformed into figgy cookies. Lastly, he turned a yellow salamander into a handful of lemon drops. Professor Fezziwink looked on, not sure if she should reprimand or commend the young boy, who obviously showed a great deal of promise. None of her other first-years had even managed a transformation.

"Well, Albus," she began, as she collected the sweets from each desk top. "You are very skilled in the art of transformation, I see. I wonder... Are you as wise as you are talented?" She dumped all of Dumbledore's transformations into a crate and shoved it into his hands.

"You can be trained in the mechanics of transfiguration without a great deal of trouble. But the wisdom needed to perfect this art is something not so easily mastered." She paused then, realizing that her class time was nearly over.

"Our young friend Albus here now has a boxful of confections that seems too tempting to resist. May I just warn you... All of you: things that seem the sweetest often sour with the tasting. And what you think is bitter at the moment may turn into sweet honey, if you are found brave enough to face its bite. I want you all to think about that today. We will discuss the topic further on the morrow."

Fezziwink dismissed the class and Albus was the first one out of her room, still clutching his box of sweets as he made his way to Gryffindor tower.

"What'll ya be doin' with all that candy?"

Albus turned at the sound of Angus Abbingdon's voice. The boy shrugged noncommittally as he eyed Dumbledore's sweets.

"It's time for dinner, anyway. Want to come down to the great hall with me?"

Albus sighed and shook his head.

"I'll be down soon," he assured, smiling, but the happiness slipped from his face as soon his friend disappeared. He was still smarting from Professor Fezziwink's reprimand, trying with all his might to decipher what she'd meant about needing wisdom to excel at transfiguration. For the youngster, the most it had ever cost him was the ability to concentrate, visualize and believe. Throwing wisdom into the formula had never been presented to him before.

In frustration, the young boy picked up the black licorice whips. He stuffed the ends into his mouth and pulled off a bite, pleased as the taste of anise filled his senses. The sweetness comforted the lad, and before long he'd eaten everything he'd transformed earlier in the day. Still troubled, he curled up in the middle of his bed, and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

A wrenching pain woke Albus sometime in the middle of the night. He sat up in bed, clutching his stomach, suddenly wondering if maybe he was getting a first hand lesson in exactly what Professor Fezziwink had meant about needing wisdom. He slid out of bed and ran to the nearest bathroom, throwing himself at the closest chamber pot.

The licorice whip lizard came first, transforming into its original shape and giving him a baleful stare before skittering off to disappear into a crevice in the wall. Next came the snake, no longer a sugar quill. It too gave Albus a piercing look, then slithered away in the opposite direction.

Dumbledore's stomach gave another heave, and this time he spat a pile of gum drops which quickly assumed the shape of several dung beetles. The boy had to sit back and rub his eyes in disbelief, but only for a moment, as figgy cookie newts and the spun sugar spider also made their escape from his middle.

Groaning in anguish, Albus stood to his feet, swaying unsteadily and wiping the sweat off his upper lip. Holding his stomach with both hands, he turned and headed back to his bed, trying desperately to remember all that he'd transformed, then eaten, earlier in the day.

Once back in Gryffindor tower, the boy fell into his bed, weakly drawing the coverlet over himself. It wasn't until he'd gotten settled in that he noticed a glass of milk and a stack of soda crackers on a plate on his bedside table. There was a note along with the milk and crackers.

"Dear Albus,

You have a great and wondrous gift, and the talent to become a powerful wizard someday. The magical community will benefit from these things, but only as much as you learn to use them with wisdom. Remember what you've learned here tonight. Let the seeds of wisdom take root in your heart. The stars have told me that much depends on whether or not you learn this lesson.

The milk and crackers should do well to settle your stomach. Regards,

Professor Fezziwink."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An ancient wizard stood alone at the highest point of the tallest of Hogwart's towers. Earlier he'd sent out the call to those he needed now to rally to his side. Darkness was rising, a darkness that was thought to have been vanquished years ago. Dumbledore sighed, he'd faced down darkness before, but this time he'd asked for help. Studying the moon for a long moment, he pulled a very old parchment from the pocket of his robes; a note sent to him from a teacher long ago, urging him to walk the path of wisdom.

Professor Fezziwink had given him a most precious gift that night, for every time Dumbledore had placed something sweet in his mouth from that time forward, he had reflected on the need for using wisdom. Popping a lemon drop into his mouth now, Albus focused once again on the moon and stars. Smiling faintly as the sour-sweet flavor filled his mouth, the headmaster turned to ascend the stairs. He'd learned the lesson taught him ages ago. He'd face the coming threat with wisdom. And a pocketful of lemon drops and licorice whips.

The End.


End file.
